Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Feedback address: firstname.lastname@example.org
Date in Calendar: 18 December 2009
Word Count: 898
Written for: Seftiri
Prompt: Spiritual rebirth
Summary: She simply smiles enigmatically at Parker and sips her tea.
Spoilers: Post-season 2…
Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Frisked & Conquered
Link to: http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC:DW09
Disclaimer: "Leverage," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Dean Devlin, Electric Entertainment, and Turner Network Television (TNT). This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Leverage," TNT, or any representatives of the actors.
Author's Notes: Y'know, this was a one shot at work one day. I added a little after the fact, but this was pretty much done in that single shot and complete. I really like writing from Sophie's POV. I do believe I'll be exploring her a little more in the future…
And before I forget, the ferry louper info came from here.
Dedication: My muses, for always taking risks…
By A. Magiluna Stormwriter
London didn't feel safe suddenly. She thought it would be far enough from the others, far enough from Nate. She hadn't been this wrong in a long time.
As long as she still had an easy tie to the technological world, they'd be able to ferret her out of any hidey hole she was in. The near-panic attack of this realization was one she'll never forget. Damn that Hardison and his whole "Age of the geek" mantra.
In no time at all, her flat is once again cleaned of anything spoilable or that will give any indications of her new destination. Rather than use any of her obvious methods of accessing money, she employs a young prostitute to fence a few old nest eggs for ready, practically untraceable cash. Let Hardison stew over this one for a while. She holds no illusions that his persistence won't win in the end, but she'll make damned good and sure that the dear boy will have to work for it. She gives him a month.
Relying on a persona researched a life time ago, and unused for nearly as many years, Sophie Devereaux disappears into the foggy London night without so much as a momentary glance back at the life -- or the people -- she's leaving behind.
The trip to the Orkney Islands is quote uneventful, and yet Sophie can't help but glance over her shoulder every now and then. The team has made enough enemies now, not to mention her own. She won't even admit to the worry -- or is it wish -- that one of her former teammates has found her already.
By the time she steps onto the Mainland, the life of Siobhan McCairney has settled over her like a well-worn shawl. She's actually a bit surprised that the dialect has come back so easily. It's been almost half her lifetime since she last spent any time in Orkney.
The homey cottage is more than adequate for her purposes and she finds herself unable to sleep that first night. Despite the chill in the air, all of the windows are thrown wide open, and she finds herself lying on her back on a blanket, staring up at the stars. She's gotten used to the light pollution of the various cities she's inhabited, and this is a rare and beautiful treat.
As the stars fade into the rosy blush of dawn, she feels the earliest indications of being comfortable in her thoughts again. A broad, unfettered smile is her only outward reaction; this was definitely the best choice for her retreat.
In only two and a half weeks, she's found. Obviously, she's either gone soft or Hardison really is that good. There's a part of her that wants to know which it is. But really, it doesn't really matter in the end, does it?
"So who the hell is Siobhan McCairney?"
That voice startles her out of the Zen-like moment she's fallen into while hanging out her laundry. She wishes she could be surprised by her actual visitor, but she doesn't have the heart for it.
"I am, Parker." And yet, the dialect that's been as natural as breathing recently falls away the instant she utters the blonde's name. She can't quite turn around to face the thief, and waits for a response that doesn't come. "How did you find me?"
"The coins you had fenced."
That makes her turn to face the other woman, a sort of stunned silence her only reply for a long moment. And then propriety and reality settle back in and she quickly finishes hanging out her washing. It will do her no good to have her neighbors get too curious about the ferry louper come to visit wee Siobhan in her seclusion.
Once inside, she busies herself with making a pot of tea. She hasn't touched a drop of alcohol since she'd devised this getaway, and she hasn't missed it. She knows Parker is snooping about, trying to figure out the job; she can't help the smirk tugging at the corners of her lips at the reality that there is no job.
"The coins?" she finally asks, setting two cups and the tray of biscuits on the table. "They weren't all that valuable."
She studies the blonde for several moments. There's a shuttered emotion lurking in those blue eyes that she can't read. Perhaps she has gone a bit rusty as she's let more and more of Sophie Devereaux go away.
"It was what Nate said, about you needing to find yourself. If you needed to disappear, you wouldn't get rid of something that the others would look for."
She smiles at the statement, delighted that Parker learned something from her that the others just didn't get. "They don't know you're here, do they?"
Parker shakes her head. "They know, just not why." After a moment, the question is repeated. "So who the hell is Siobhan McCairney?"
"She's me, Parker."
"Sophie Devereaux is dead." Oddly, that sentence hurts more than she's expected it to, but she attributes that to the fact that she's revealed it to someone important to Sophie Devereaux.
"So is Siobhan your real name? Or just another cover?"
Nonplussed, she chuckles ruefully. "I suppose the answer is yes."
"To which question?"
She simply smiles enigmatically at Parker and sips her tea.